Behind the Curtain
by Redenzione
Summary: A man's heart breaks as he watches Sasuke and Sakura.


**Title: **Behind the Curtain

**Summary: **A man's heart breaks as he watches Sasuke and Sakura

**Disclaimer: **Oh how I wish, but no I do not own Naruto

**Theme: **Chance Meetings

**Prompt: **Scent/Shatter

**Medium: **Fanfiction

**Rating: **T

**Warning(s): **Caught almost-flagrante?

**Comments:** This is the sequel to Fever.

This is for Sasu/Saku month on LJ. If you havn't checked it out you should - There is phenomenal work coming out of those talented folks.

Hope you like it.

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><p>It was the stage for their story.<p>

And his heartbreak.

He had loved her from afar – long before anyone had ever heard of her. Long before any of the more affluent men had started coming to the club – the club he had suggested and as a result had got nothing more than a pat on the back for.

He was middle-class, unmarried, and secure. He had a lot to offer – at least to girls in the club. He had dreamed of a life with her, coming home to his beautiful wife and daughters, having the whole family singing a tune and hearing his girls joke about his terrible voice.

He fantasized about making love to her in their bed, quietly and passionately while watching her eyes flutter close as the pleasure washed over her. He imagined seeing that radiant smile as those eyes opened and she enjoyed the afterglow.

As he walked up to the club door he shook his head trying to rid himself of those kinds of thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the poor girl. She wasn't agreeable to this arrangement to begin with.

She had suggested they meet here. He recognised that she didn't want anyone to know where she lived, whether it was security or just the fact that her living conditions were sub-par he didn't want to know. Either way, the former was too tempting and the latter too agonising.

He entered through the small, nondescript door to a grotty hallway; he continued to the end and went through the next – to where the red velvet and cigar smoke lived. The thin lady was hosting. She looked bored, he didn't blame her – there would not be anyone interesting there tonight.

He smiled at her and nodded while tipping his hat. She acknowledged it with a puff of her cigarette and a nod.

He brushed aside the hanging beads impatiently. There were a few in the club, most of them ne'er to do wells. There were a couple of men pretending to be gang members; A few men like him – middle class, maybe some of them were married. Either way they weren't going to be at the party tonight so they didn't matter.

He walked behind them and past the bar where Kiba was working. Kiba nodded while he waved his hand. Kiba was a good lad. Always good for a laugh or just a chat, always willing to give advice when it was needed, which it was.

He continued walking, there was a hidden door near the bar – it was a private place for some of the patrons – only if the girls were willing. Its part of the reason this establishment was so popular. The girls were looked after. Many of the men ran the fine line between what was good and proper and what was not.

Of course none of the women of good society had any idea about this kind of place – and if they had inkling, none of them knew where it was or had any evidence. It was an unspoken agreement – especially between those that were married – to keep this place a secret.

And thus far they had succeeded. He would probably be reprimanded tomorrow, but that was tomorrow. He didn't care about tomorrow. It was tonight that he cared about.

He saw one of the big bodyguards outside one of the doors and stopped before him. They stared at each other for a few seconds.

"Masaka?" It sounded more like a statement than a question, but he still nodded the affirmative to the massive man in front of him. The man reached a fist behind him and knocked three times on the door.

There was a shuffling behind the door and then it opened gently, he craned his neck to see her but the shoulders of the mammoth in front of him only made her pink hair visible. "Thank you, Ken."

The bodyguard grunted and moved aside to reveal her. He stared at her. The dress was not like the ones he normally saw her in – the svelte, the short, sexy dresses that hugged her petite frame. It had been one of her arguments in agreeing to this – she didn't have anything to wear.

So he got this for her, even though she had protested. It was a deep forest green – too dark to match her eyes. It reached down to her calves. It had a straight neckline, her small breasts were tucked away, and her shoes were not as high as they normally were. They covered those dainty toes of hers. A dark black ribbon was wrapped around her waist, in cinched in to give her some shape. Her hair was longer than usual – tucked away in a sleek low bun and curled around her face.

She looked pretty, beautiful, not like a woman you would see singing on stage at an exclusive men's club. She looked younger, fresher. The transformation was amazing; he wasn't sure which version of her that he preferred.

He coughed and choked out compliments to her. The body guard didn't say or do anything while he stuttered around her. Sakura smiled lightly and thanked him for the dress, apparently he had good taste.

The ride to the party was quiet and he felt there was a strange tension in the air. She sat far away from him, and he didn't bother to try and crowd her. His palms were sweating and he didn't know what to say. He was grateful, dazzled and lustful all at the same time.

They arrived at the home of one of the CEO's of the company he worked in. The large ionic columned entrance was lit up with small lights, the double doors were open revealing a sumptuous red-carpet, valets were waiting to assist the women, cars were lined up behind one another and it was a few minutes before their doors were opened.

He rushed around to Sakura – uncaring if anyone stared at his antics, or if anyone laughed at him. He wanted people to make sure she was with him.

She was waiting patiently for him, he smiled at her and she smiled back and took his offered arm. The black, lace gloves that she wore felt rough against his skin. They walked into the ballroom; he looked for her reaction but found none.

The room was spectacular bright yellows and gold's were offset by dark reds, dark blues and a few streaks of white.

Bars were in every corner of the room, large tables surrounded them, in the middle of the room was a large dancing area – where presently many people were congregating and meeting and greeting. Women kissed one another on the cheek and asked how each other's children were. Men shook hands, whispered and rolled their eyes playfully at their wives antics.

He led Sakura over to a bar and ordered their drinks. The bartenders didn't even bother to give either of them a second glance as he passed them their drinks, a club soda for her, and a G&T for him.

His hand drifted to her lower back, she seemed comfortable enough with it while he led her across the floor, he introduced her to those he worked with, proud as a peacock. She was polite, and gracious. Many of his workmates were stunned by her. Only one of the four was married, however his rather pregnant wife was unable to be there tonight.

They continued talking for a few moments when he felt her stiffen, it was only for a split second but it was long enough. He turned towards her and ignored the crucial part of the joke that was being told in their small circle. Their group was closer to the door – much like the work hierarchy, and from their position they could see everything in the room.

It took her only a few split seconds to regain her composure but it was enough to make him curious. Had she done something like this before? But if so – then why had she acquiesced to doing this, she had said no to his request many times. She had given reasons – some sound, some verging on the ridiculous as to why she had to refuse him. One she had repeated was that many men would recognise her – why would he want that embarrassment on his good name?

He had appeased her fears; he had bought her the dress, and assured her that she would understand how to conduct herself; he had also promised her that she could never be an embarrassment to him. He had then said he didn't want to, but if push came to shove he would buy her for the evening. It was then she had said yes.

Buying someone for the evening was rare and extremely expensive. Certain things were expected of the woman bought and paid for. He didn't know if she had done it before, but from her quick agreement he knew she didn't want to be bought.

She smiled at him to assure him she was fine. She had barely said a word to him all night. She wasn't fine. Something was wrong. He cleared his throat, "do you want to go outside for some air?" She hesitated in giving him her answer, "they have some lovely balconies," he continued awkwardly, "with phenomenal views of the river-" she let out a giggle, he stopped, surprised. She covered her face with her hands briefly before looking back up at him. She was smiling, she looked radiant. "I would love some air." She spoke warmly and squeezed his arm.

It took him a moment to comprehend what was happening as they walked out toward one of the alcove balconies. The large, heavy curtains blocked the slight breeze and anyone's prying eyes. The pair fought their way through them and walked towards the rounded boundary. It was high, and reached up to her waist, so that no one would fall. With the amount of liquor flowing it was most likely a great idea.

They leaned against the stone wall; she let the breeze flow over her pink cheeks. "It's hot in that ballroom isn't it?" She asked. He stared at her for a long time, not answering her question. Thoughts, unsavoury thoughts spread through his body and down to his crotch. He gulped, "do you want a drink?" He asked quickly and turned his body away from her. She turned her head to look at him, "yes that would be nice." She spoke softly.

He nodded jerkily and then rushed off to the ballroom. He stood at one of the bars for a while to calm himself down. The alcohol wasn't helping. He ordered two club soda's, took a breather and then set back out for the balcony.

It took him a moment to remember which one they were in, he finally remember and then slipped through the curtains.

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><p>Sakura let the cold air wash over her. It had been stifling in that room. A place where she felt constrained, where she knew she didn't belong, where she felt the eyes upon her.<p>

She heard the heavy curtains move; she waited for a few moments. The breeze carried the scent over. The wrong scent or perhaps the right one, she didn't dare turn around.

He was potentially the closest he had ever been. The only time she had even seen him was at the club, half hidden in the darkness, watching her, almost playing a game with her.

"Sakura." His voice was a hoarse whisper on the wind. She trembled, he could touch her here. He could talk to her.

Or could he? Was his wife back in the ballroom? Was he even married? When would Masaka come back?

Questions ran a marathon through her brain. Her hands clutched at the balcony, she heard his footsteps, and they were coming closer. She turned around and gasped. He was an arm's length away. He looked angry.

He was so handsome, in his black tuxedo; his signature cane was probably put away as was his top hat. His eyes ran over her figure possessively, taking in everything. "You look beautiful." He spoke quietly.

"But I don't belong here." She finished, she raised her eyes to meet his. His brow was furrowed, like he was confused.

"I haven't seen that one." It took Sakura a moment to realise that he was talking about her dress. She didn't know how to respond. "I suppose he bought it for you right?"

The anger in his voice was palpable, she still didn't answer. "Why are you here with him?" He asked roughly, his hands were in his pockets and he didn't remove his eyes from her.

Sakura took a moment to come up with her answer but she still stuttered in front of this man. "Because...be...be, because he asked me to." She finished. She could feel the tears well up in her eyes.

The man in front of her made her feel like a complete fraud. Like she didn't belong in either world, his, or the one he frequented – but never stayed in. He moved closer to her, his movements were slow; he eased his entire body onto with a slow grace.

They had never been this close, she was trembling madly, like she was going to combust, burst into flame and let the breeze dash away her ashes. "Please, please," she shook her head from side to side. Her eyes were shut so she didn't see his hands coming up to cup her cheeks and to stop her head from moving.

She gasped again as she finally felt his skin. "Open your eyes," he whispered. She didn't so he moved in closer. It was his lips that did it, the fact that they were so close. "Open your eyes Sakura." She opened them. His eyes were dark, they were roaming all over her face, his fingers stroked her face and he leaned his body onto. It was like he was trying to get as close to her as he possibly could.

He was gentle and soothing; he was looking at her like he had waited for this moment for so long. Nothing existed in that moment but the two of them. "Sasuke, please." She swore after she had whispered that his eyes flashed red. This time he trembled, he rotated his head and his hands moved from her cheeks, down the soft skin of her neck, down over shoulders, they danced over her sides – barely missing her breasts and then went around her waist. His forearms locked across her waist and pulled her so close.

She gasped again, and her hands grasped at his shoulders to keep balance from his strong jerk. "Say it again." He commanded, there was a plea in there in well. She contained herself and looked at him, he was staring at her, and his features looked like they were close to twitching in their anticipation.

She tilted her head and rolled her lace-covered fingers into his tuxedo jacket. "Sasuke-"she barely got his whole name out before he covered her lips with his own.

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><p>Masaka watched the two of them together. Their intimacy, their tension and comfort with one another. The drinks in his hand were long forgotten, he probably was too. He watched them kiss each other with reckless abandon.<p>

Sasuke lifted Sakura up so that she was clinging onto him and was almost sitting on the balcony railing. Sakura was gasping; Sasuke was kissing every available inch of skin he could find. He grabbed at her hands and ripped the lace off of it. You could see that their clothes were becoming a frustration and a heartbreaking reminder of what could not happen.

Sakura's dress was designed to be elegant, to stop moments like this from happening. Obviously they hadn't met these two. Sakura tried to wrench her dress up as high as it would go, Sasuke was grunting as more of her flesh was revealed to his eager hands. Sasuke moved upwards abandoning the bottom of the dress, he pulled the straps of her dress down and tried to tug the rest of the bodice with it, but it proved difficult.

Sakura was close to weeping with frustration and Sasuke was near to breaking point, Masaka could see the desire to rip the dress clean off her was burgeoning, he almost wished Sasuke would. Her chest heaving, Sakura grabbed a hold of Sasuke hands that were still trying to tug her dress down. He stopped and looked back up at her. She looked sad and resigned, their panting slowed down and soon they were breathing normally.

Their clothes remained rumpled; Sasuke's jacket was on the ground, his hair mussed. Sakura's dress had been pulled down so far that her cleavage was now quite spectacular. Her slender thighs, encased in stockings were revealed, almost up to the garter belt. Sakura pushed the man back so that she could stand on the ground, he assisted with a hand and when she was safe, he pulled her to him and buried his face into her neck.

He rubbed his hands all over her and she let silent tears run down her face as their embrace continued. There was a loud sound from behind Masaka – an announcement coming from the ballroom. He slipped back into the curtains to hide from the pair on the balcony.

It was only a few minutes before a harassed looking Sasuke came through the curtains, his jacket was back on – and although his hair wasn't perfect he still looked well – not like he had just come back from a passionate tryst with a woman he had only stared at every Tuesday and Thursday for a few minutes.

"Sasuke, there you are!" Masaka watched the cool mask fall back into place as the formidable Sasuke Uchiha came back to life. He watched the young man walk off in the direction he was called from and disappear in a sea of black.

Not the first time in the last half hour that he wished he hadn't walked back through those curtains, seeing someone else with Sakura at first had angered him – had sent a flare of jealousy through him. He had been about to announce himself when a shaft of moonlight had fallen on the two of them, and he had realised who the man was. Sasuke Uchiha, one of the CEO's of the company, the man that held his security in his hands.

So he had waited, watched and listened to the unbelievable and short conversation the two had had. He then had witnessed a more unbelievable act – Sasuke Uchiha caught in flagrante.

Their passion for one another was astounding – Sakura was less surprising, onstage she burned with it, he had believed it had been for her singing, but now he knew better. Sasuke was the biggest surprise – that he could feel anything for anyone was surprising.

Masaka waited a few more moments before he went out, "Sakura?" She turned around quickly, startled. He met her eyes unflinchingly. "Oh, back so soon?" She asked breathlessly.

Oh she was good.

"So soon?" He murmured humourlessly. "It's been nearly half an hour Sakura." Her name didn't hold the same reverence as it once did. She stared at him, and then stared at the drinks perspiring in his hand. The ice was almost completely melted, "and it took you that long to get drinks?"

They were in a stand-off for a few minutes, "no, I was waylaid by a work mate – sorry I took so long." He didn't, but he offered the drink all the same. The gloves were back on; he felt the lace on his skin as she took the drink from him.

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><p>They left not soon after, he kept her on the balcony for another half an hour – by the time he suggested they left she was fidgety and anxious.<p>

The car ride back was worse than the ride there. She had taken her gloves off –as something to do. This time, he didn't want to say anything; he wasn't feeling nervous, dazzled or lustful.

He couldn't help but want to ruin her night. Like she had broken his heart. He knew it was ridiculous of him, she hadn't wanted to come in the first place, but he had pushed her too. He had pushed her to what had happened. In truth she looked as miserable as he felt.

As she turned toward him, smiling gently and thanking him – she had a lovely time, and that she would have the dress cleaned and returned to him, he couldn't. She was still trying to make an effort. To make him feel special – like she did every night he watched her on stage.

Her scent was light and flowery – with a mixture of strong cologne – she probably didn't realise it lingered on her, even now.

He couldn't shatter her night, he realised as she and her scents leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Her hand brushed his other cheek with a small stroke of affection.

He couldn't tell her that what she had just been to, was Sasuke Uchiha's engagement party.

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><p>Please tell me what you think. :D And yes, there will be a sequel.<p> 


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